her lips were sweet
by glasswork destruction
Summary: With you, I could have lived forever in sweet oblivion. But it's time to wake up now, Mami-san, to the bitter reality that enfolds us. —Mami/Nagisa, Mami/Charlotte [one-shot; rebellion-verse]


**a/n:** this is a rebellion-verse au. naturally, rebellion spoilers lie ahead; read at your own discretion.

written for prompt #002 (write a story incorporating the idea of reincarnation) of femslash friday on the anime and manga fanfiction challenges forum.

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**~her lips were sweet~**

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How long has it been since the battle began? Hours? Days? Months? Years, even?

She's lost track of time. The core of the Nightmare is cooing and coaxing and beckoning with its bronze-slathered sticks for talons as the earth tremors and moans. Murmuring, murmuring _oh how lovely how lonely you are sweet child come to me—_

_Shut up_, she screams back, hollow and guttural. The monster leers.

_Come to me, sweet child, and drink away your loneliness. Sweet, darling, forsaken child—_

.

Somewhere, in darkness's bosom, there is a stir.

_Mami-san_.

.

_Release her._

The crevice in the mosaic-sky creaks, shudders and swells, wreaking havoc through the bleeding mouth of the Nightmare, and the face of a doll materialises in the gap. The doll's maw is gaping, jagged and adorned with mismatched stitches, stretching into a sardonic grin.

_Release Mami-san._

Her head snaps up at the precise moment the bubbles fall.

.

_Focus, Mami-san, focus. Forget your inhibitions, forget the distractions—just focus._

She spins in an endless pirouette, fingers operating musket after musket with a mechanical finesse, discarding them when their shells run clean and drawing fresh battalions from beneath her rustling skirt. Bullets rain from the sky, fusing into the explosive bubbles that pour from the mouth of the doll's trumpet, resultant projectiles blasting holes and long-hammered chasms into the writhing shadows that flow in rivers from the alizarin-hued walls. Cackles erupt, reverberating through the quaking air and slamming through her skull—

_Kill._

The Nightmare holds its breath, shuddering. Crying.

_Kill them all._

The air shatters.

.

She crumples to the ground, sulphur clinging to her like a second skin as the last of the Nightmare dissolves and the world blends back into normality. The doll glides to a soft landing next to her, absorbing the impact deftly. Red drips from its quivering ears, staining its bleached canvas-for-skin with blots she doesn't need a degree in psychology to decipher.

The blood leaves her cold. She knows whose blood it is.

"Hey." The voice is raspy, barely louder than a whisper. It takes a dazed moment to realise it's hers. "Hey. Are you hurt?"

It shakes its head, a trembling leaf swaying in the wind.

_I'm sorry_ is what she means to say, along with _what are you why did you save me how did you know I was here why_ and an avalanche of questions that clash and dissipate in heaps of meaningless babble.

The only one that makes it to her tongue is, "Why?"

.

"Have we... met before?"

(unconsciously, her hand creeps up to touch her neck)

Their eyes lock, and there is no reply.

.

The scene before her ripples, and suddenly the glassy eyes of the doll are ridden with meaning. She blinks, shaking her dishevelled ringlets out of her face.

"Of course... _Bebe_!" She lunges forward, sweeping it into a hug. "Bebe, you're hurt! Where have your clothes gone? I should knit you new ones, shouldn't I? Oh, how terrible of me... I'm so sorry, Bebe! I forgot who you were for a moment!"

The doll remains motionless, gazing ahead. Unseeing.

.

Bebe, she remembers (remembers?), is her oldest friend. Bebe, she remembers (remembers?), goes to bed at exactly ten p.m. every night. Bebe, she remembers (remembers?), likes cheesecake for breakfast and four lumps of sugar in her tea, in contrast to the bitter edge Mami is fond of.

Every second, every day, she remembers, a new bubble fizzing to life and bursting to reveal something she didn't know before, followed by a slight twinge of guilt for forgetting.

And eventually, she starts to remember (remember?) the rest as well: Madoka, Sayaka, Kyouko, and Homura. They are her companions, her fellow _mahou shoujo_, and together they are the magical quintet that guards the city of Mitakihara.

She wonders how she could've forgotten.

.

Everything is finally falling into place. Every intricate little detail is exactly as it should be.

.

Or so she _thinks_.

.

"Speak." Her breath escapes in wisps. Homura Akemi, that traitor, that _bitch_, is ensnarled within the tightening cocoon of ribbons that snakes around her ankles, around her waist, fastening above her head. The captive struggles, making a futile attempt to break out from its garroting hold, while her captor watches with icy eyes.

"Speak. Why did you hurt Bebe?"

"S-she's the Witch that's keeping us here, in this delusion!" Homura cries, her ebony hair tangling in the velvety folds. "_Charlotte—_ that's her real name! She's a Witch!"

It's almost laughable, how ridiculous this situation is. Everything she says is nonsense, absolutely nonsense, it makes no sense at all—

"I don't know any Witch." The ribbons constrict, and Homura's watering eyes bulge. "I only know Nightmares, the monsters that stalk the night, the monsters we have devoted our lives to destroying. And if you're going to betray us and hurt my best friend, Bebe, _our friend_, I don't care what motives you have. I—"

_Stop._

The air freezes.

_(that voice)_

.

_I'm sorry, Mami-san. I shouldn't have deceived you._

She turns her head.

It can't be.

It seems impossible, the notion itself so _preposterous_, but—

"Bebe?"

.

The young girl shakes her head, ivory tresses tumbling over her frail body. Her smile is sad. _My name is Nagisa Momoe._

.

It takes only a fleeting second for everything to come crashing back down on her.

This time, she remembers.

Everything.

.

Bebe is Charlotte. Charlotte is Nagisa. It is an inescapable fact of reality, swirling round and round her clotted brain as she struggles to understand. Charlotte-no-_Bebe_ killed her, stealing the air from her lungs and effectively crushing every dream and fantasy she ever had. And yet here Charlotte-no-_Bebe_ is, a perfectly normal human that in no way resembles the doll that has been living with her for her entire life—

No. Her blood runs cold. There is an undeniable congruity in the alabaster shade of her skin, her yellow eyes and her red-lined irises. There is no doubt about it; this girl is the Bebe she knew.

So... how? How is it possible that this girl turned into a Witch and killed her, and yet both of them are alive and well? How...

_Come with me._ Nagisa's outstretched hand sways in the breeze, trembling slightly but refusing to retreat. _I'll explain everything._

When Mami hesitates, the other smiles.

_I won't lie to you ever again, Mami-san. I promise._

All is silent.

Then slowly, her hand takes hers, and they vanish into the darkness.

.

_I came back to taste cheese again,_ Nagisa says. They are whipping through the air, firing shots at the legion of screeching Familiars that lurch across their path. Their attacks meld together perfectly, transparent combustibles encasing gunmetal slashing through the wavering humanoid outlines.

_But then I met you, Mami-san. __In nearly every timeline, we have met in battle—though this time was different. __And at first it felt like a dream. A phantasm, my mother would say. The Barrier may have altered your memory, making you think I was your friend, but... It felt so real._

She catches her balance atop a tower of black crystal, teetering against the clockwork landscape of the Barrier.

_With you, I could have lived forever in the dream. But it's time to wake up now, to a bittersweet reality built by Homura. __Except..._ Swivelling on her heel, Nagisa arches her back to smile at Mami. _You don't have to be alone anymore, Mami-san._

_Neither of us has to be alone anymore._

And for the first time in a long while, Mami smiles.

.

Then—

A pause.

A blood-curdling giggle.

_"You're mine."_

And the world is torn asunder.

.

_"Nagisa—"_

.

_Back to square one._

.

A black feather, silky and menacing in its curve, flutters to a rest on her palm. Mami Tomoe raises an eyebrow, releasing it to the breeze.

Something feels strange, somehow. She's not quite sure why, but there's a void in her heart, as if something is missing. But what?

At that precise moment, a frail figure collides into her body, causing her to stagger backwards slightly. It's a young girl of about ten, reeling back and tipping her head profusely. "I'm so sorry, _senpai_!"

"It's fine. Just be more careful." Mami smiles back, settling back into her uneasy state as she watches the girl dashing, backpack bouncing, to catch up with her friends. There's something about that ivory hair, that voice, that leaves a sliver of nostalgia—

No. It's nothing. She's sure of it.

Quelling the _have we met before _on the tip of her tongue, she turns back to sip her tea.

(It's a tad sweeter than usual.)

.

.

.

**Fin.**


End file.
